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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973002">Valse sentimentale</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroNeko414/pseuds/KuroNeko414'>KuroNeko414</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Breddy, TwoSet, Twosetviolin, Video Blogging RPF, twoset violin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Best Friends, Gen, Heartbreak, Pain, Unrequited Love, Weddings, Yearning, best man Eddy Chen, breddy - Freeform, gay crushes on their straight friend, gay sadness, rip Eddy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:22:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25973002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroNeko414/pseuds/KuroNeko414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As their dance ended, Valse sentimentale followed and god, who was in charge of the playlist? “The dance floor is now open to anyone,” Phoebe announces as the couple parted. Tchaikovsky’s sadness waltzes in tandem with Eddy’s own longing, and he finds himself getting up and getting down the stage from where the wedding entourage’s seats were placed.</p><p>Eddy approaches Brett, exaggeratedly bowing low and holding out his hand. “May I take this dance, my good sir?” He asks with confidence cemented over years of acting in front of the camera. His ears are graced with Brett’s laugh, and Brett takes his hand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brett Yang/Original Character(s), Eddy Chen &amp; Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Valse sentimentale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The golden frames glinted in the mirror as Eddy adjusted the bow tie under his collar, assessing the neatly parted hair and his touched up cheeks. Humming Beau Soir, he looks around the room, and smiles as he catches the groom’s eyes across the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brett’s hair is being done by the stylist, to say that he looks dashing is a heavy understatement. The hair stylist is combing Brett’s hair carefully, and Eddy’s eyes stray to Brett’s lovely nose.</span>
  <em>
    <span> You’re like a Greek god. Someone should make a statue of you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brett’s cheeks are tinted rose, and he’s not wearing glasses. The wedding coordinator told them to not wear glasses so that the pictures don’t ever have glare in them, but Eddy decided to wear his anyway. It's making Brett’s eyes look smaller than how they usually look. Not like it’s super unfamiliar to Eddy though, he’s seen those eyes before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Closed and calm as he sleeps, lashes fluttering occasionally as he dreams. Bags under them when they’re working really hard late at night and he takes off his glasses to rub at his eyes despite them being taught since childhood not to do that. Those times when Brett’s just fresh out the shower and he’s squinting to see where he’s going.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brett is wearing a white, long sleeve shirt, the top two buttons undone for the time being while his black coat is on a hanger behind the door of their little groomsmen room. Eddy tries not to focus too much on the small amount of skin showing between the collar, looking down at his phone and checking through emails and TwoSet business.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They have about an hour and a half until the ceremony starts. An hour and a half and… Eddy doesn’t really want to think too much about the implications of Brett getting married. He wants his best friend to be happy of course, and they’ve always reassured one another that they will always be each other’s priority in life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Eddy doesn’t like to share. They’ve been best friends for 18 years. Eddy has lived more than a decade feeling a grueling tugging at his chest, some kind of void that can never be filled. Always yearning for something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But he’s just out of reach. It reminds Eddy of Rachmaninoff’s pieces on piano.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop that,” Eddy says to his unnerving mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s Brett’s special day. He’s off to get married, he’s happy with this person he’s been dating for the past 2 years. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eddy looks at the mirror again, running his fingers through his hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Through the mirror, he can see Brett’s reflection, bright and glowing. His smile is so wide and he could barely keep still. He may as well be swinging his legs just like when they were 13 and 14, when Brett’s legs don’t quite reach the floor below chairs. Back in the days when they’d have bubble tea after busking for a while in the streets of Brisbane.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s getting married. M-a-r-r-i-e-d. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eddy tsks at his brain’s futile attempt at accepting the event today. Yeah, he’ll always be Brett’s best friend and closest companion, he knows that. Denise has been understanding of their connection, she understands the affection and their bond that has lasted for almost 20 years now. But Eddy can’t shake that feeling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Doubt claws its ugly fingertips around his heart, clenching around his throat, and Eddy goes to the bathroom. He thought he’d cried it out enough in his bed, in the darkness for the past 2 weeks. He thought that he’d accepted it, with Sibelius the Penguin in his arms at 1 in the morning. He thought he’s ready, like, he’s been waiting for this day for a decade. He’s been waiting for when Brett finally slips through his fingers and he becomes a side detail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy takes off his glasses, wiping at the corners of his eyes before tears start pooling and dripping down his cheeks. He can’t have the make-up artist’s work be ruined by his emotional instability. Yeah it’s just foundation but come on, he can be strong for Brett. He’s the best man for a reason, dammit. He looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, staring at his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he exits the bathroom, Brett’s face meets him at the doorway. “You okay?” Brett asks him, eyebrows furrowed in concern. He shouldn’t be worrying about him right now, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>day. “Yeah man, I’m just…” Eddy trails off, looking around the room filled with their other friends. Oliver is getting his hair styled now while Alex is on his phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just really happy for you, you’ve come so far.” Eddy plasters on a tight smile on his face, clapping Brett on the shoulder. There’s a trace of hesitation in Brett’s face for a fraction of a second, and then he smiles that wonderful smile. That smile worth more than 10 Strads, that smile that reassured him through homework assignments, through performances, through their world tour, through almost every doubt he’s had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brett hugs him then, and Eddy relishes the height difference as always. Brett’s hair slicked back neatly smells of something like aloe along with something sweet and familiar that Eddy can’t place in his mind. “I love you so much bro. Thank you for being the best man ever.” Brett drew back, patting Eddy’s chest. Eddy chuckles. “You can always count on me bro. I’ll be sure to play Canon in D for you later as a testament to our friendship,” Eddy says playfully. Brett’s face contorts in mock disgust. “You better not, I’ll personally kick you out the door.” Brett flicks Eddy’s nose and turns to leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy focuses on Brett’s retreating figure, off to bother Hyung by the window. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Always, huh? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Eddy laughs softly to himself. Oh well, at least he can follow Brett right now. He knows the time is coming that Brett is going somewhere he can’t follow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy goes to the other two by the window and watches the people outside starting to trickle into the venue.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy takes his spot just a few feet away from Brett, violin and bow in hand in his seat with the quartet. Hyung is at the cello, his face calm. Oliver is right beside him playing viola and Eddy is grateful that they are not playing Canon in D as he recounts their gig adventures. Ray is playing second violin because Brett specifically appointed Eddy as first violin, though he lowkey thinks Ray should just bedazzle everyone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then again, Eddy is Brett’s best friend. He should put more effort into making his best bro’s special day extra special. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder if we’ll continue to do wedding gigs in the future.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eddy looks at the profile of Brett’s head, eyes glued to the entryway. He is absolutely beaming as he waits for Denise to go down the aisle. He’s wiggling like he wants to rock back and forth on his heels and Eddy tries not to let out a chuckle at the groom’s antics.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His black coat is closed with one button, a boutonniere consisting of small lilacs and white heliotropes are on his chest. His collar homes a white bow tie, the same one he’s used in so many concerts and videos. Eddy can imagine him as the soloist he should have been, dapper in his tailcoat (even though it also reminds Eddy of cockroach wings).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Brett’s little cousin as the flower girl comes waltzing onto the entryway, and Eddy signals the rest of the quartet into the first few bars of an excerpt from Liebesleid. As the notes drift into the air and the different members of the wedding entourage come through, Eddy puts in as much of the yearning pent up over a decade and a half into his playing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wonders if people notice the longing in each legato he pulls, his bow going back and forth as though reaching out and pulling away just at the last second. So close but just not quite enough. Just barely out of reach. He’s just right there, but they’re a world apart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Denise gets to the end of the aisle in her white gown and veil in the corner of Eddy’s field of vision as he plays the ending trill. He puts his violin in rest position with a small sigh as the priest starts his speech. Eddy stares at Brett’s face, hoping that his eyes would stray to him so he can be a useful best friend and make funny faces at his best mate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Brett’s eyes stay trained on his soon-to-be wife’s face, and Eddy tries to ignore the pang that came with the lack of eye contact that’s been a trademark of their friendship. Eddy closed his eyes and took a breath to compose himself, just missing the quick glance that Brett shot at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you take this woman, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to hold forever?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy wishes he can hold Brett forever, but it looks like he’ll just have to stick to his violin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Brett says firmly, and Eddy can see the glimmer in his eyes. It’s almost the same one that’s usually there when Brett plays violin. And it’s similar to the one reserved for Eddy. But this looks brighter, and Eddy feels something dim inside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And do you take this man, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to hold forever?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do,” says Denise, and Brett’s smile widens even more. Eddy is enraptured by that smile. That damned smile that seems to never stop making him feel things. That stupid smile that haunted his dreams, filled with flowers and sunshine and the ocean breeze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That damned smile that won’t be exclusively shown to him anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy claps with the rest of the congregation as the newly wedded couple kiss, and Eddy looks to his side, seeing a sympathetic look from Ray. Looks like he wasn’t very lowkey about his emotions. Eddy tries to smile to mask the pain a little better, and Ray just pats him on the back.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>A recording of Liszt’s Liebestraume plays throughout the wide reception venue as Eddy swishes his glass of Gewürztraminer around, and Eddy laughs inwardly upon remembering their Paganini vs Lizst video. Brett is talking animatedly with family members in front of the stage, receiving congratulations from aunties and uncles his wife will probably not remember the names of. Eddy keeps on drinking as he looks around the room, ignoring the worried looks his friends are throwing his way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom will now have their first dance,” Phoebe announces to the crowd. A waltz by Chopin comes through the speakers, and Brett takes his wife by the waist for the dance. Just about a week ago, Eddy was laughing as he watched his friend try and fail to remember the steps, almost stepping on his fianceé’s feet multiple times, and now he’s doing it effortlessly as if he’s been a dancer his whole life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy sways to the beat of the piece, wishing that his eyes were the ones that Brett was looking so deeply into. That it was his waist where his talented fingers lay, that he was the one in white that Brett is trying to sweep off their feet. Dear God, he wishes so bad.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But no.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s okay. He’s Brett’s best friend, and no one can ever take that away from him. No one can take away the more than half of their lives that they‘ve spent with each other. No one can take away the anime bingewatching in highschool, the comfort they gave each other through their doubts, the brain child they’ve raised together, the bubble tea runs, and everything else in between.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy keeps all this in his heart, and he’ll be content. He’ll learn to be content. Girlfriend or wife doesn’t mean above best friend, and if Brett’s wife tries to take that away from him, he’ll fight tooth and nail for it. He may not be deserving of Brett’s romantic interest, but Eddy knows his place in Brett’s life and he will always be there. Always.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As their dance ended, Valse sentimentale followed and god, who was in charge of the playlist? “The dance floor is now open to anyone,” Phoebe announces as the couple parted. Tchaikovsky’s sadness waltzes in tandem with Eddy’s own longing, and he finds himself getting up and getting down the stage from where the wedding entourage’s seats were placed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy approaches Brett, exaggeratedly bowing low and holding out his hand. “May I take this dance, my good sir?” He asks with confidence cemented over years of acting in front of the camera. His ears are graced with Brett’s laugh, and Brett takes his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy places his right hand on Brett’s back underneath his now-open coat while his left hand cherishes the softness of Brett’s smaller hand in it. Eddy dances Brett around the dance floor mirroring the steps he watched Brett learn during the wedding rehearsals.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a married man now, Brett Yang,” Eddy starts with a smile, relieved that his voice isn’t wavering just yet. But he knows it will soon. “It feels so… Un</span>
  <em>
    <span>rieu.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Eddy says with a grin. Brett’s eyebrows come together in confusion with a smile on his face. “What the heck, Eddy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two men chuckle as they waltz around, surrounded by friends and family, and just for now, Eddy will pretend that this whole event was for them. Just for now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, Andre Rieu. That one guy we tried to copy the dancing of,” Eddy reminds Brett of a video long, long ago. He barely remembered it himself. “That name is familiar but I honestly barely remember,” Brett says. “When did we do that video?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, 4 or 5 years ago?” Eddy replies. They were in the middle of their world tour when they did that video. How has it been that long already? “Well there’s no way I would remember that then.” Eddy tries not to let his disappointment show, and puts on a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on man, you can’t even remember? What, am I gonna be onesetviolin now, hUH?” Eddy says while enunciating the “huh” with his best Asian mom voice, trying not to be too loud seeing as he is surrounded by a bunch of Asian parents. Eddy prepares his throat for the shrill voice of Edwina. “How DARE you get married, Brett Yang. I thought I was your BAE! All men are the same,” Eddy cries in mock distress, Brett trying to contain his laughter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But Edwina, you still are my bae,” Brett says with his soft voice, consoling Eddy as Edwina.  The softness of it touches Eddy, but he knows it’s only for show as it has always been. And then Brett kisses Eddy’s cheek, and Eddy turns away with a blush.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“HMph, you have a wife, Mr. Yang,” Eddy says, continuing the charade he is hiding behind. He grabs Brett’s ring-clad finger. “You see this? You wearing a ring right there! I don’t have a ring, so you’re not married to me. You’re just going to leave me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last part sounded sadder than Eddy intended and shoot, Brett’s face turned serious, and Eddy knew his mask slipped. Brett grabs his hands and Eddy relishes in the warmth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You will always be my best friend, okay? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>ever changes that. Not me getting married, not TwoSet fading into obscurity, </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Brett assures. “Why are you crying?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy didn’t notice the tears falling down his face, and he wiped them away vehemently, covering up his sniffles with wet laughs. “I’m just… I’m just very happy for you man.” Brett doesn’t look convinced but he doesn’t prod further and wraps Eddy in a hug. Schön Rosmarin came on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You will always be my best bro, Eddy Chen. Don’t ever forget that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy sighs into the hug and they just stayed there swaying for a bit. When they part, Brett punches his arm, and goes back to his wife.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eddy goes to the bar this time, and asks the bartender for gin and tonic. Brett’s favorite. Sibelius’s Tempo di valse plays. Honestly though, did the person in charge of the playlist just searched up waltzes and slapped the pieces onto there? Eddy takes a swig of the drink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Best bro. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yeah, that’s all he’ll ever be for Brett. For being his best friend, Brett sure is oblivious as heck to Eddy’s non-platonic feelings for him. But all is well. So what if he can’t intertwine his fingers with him all the time? So what if he can’t hold his small frame as they binge anime in bed? So what if he can’t kiss his lips and cherish the taste? It’s all fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s okay that he doesn’t wake up to Brett’s sleepy face and the taste of morning breath. It’s okay that he doesn’t get to give him kisses on his nose in the winter months. It’s okay that he doesn’t get to share a small apartment with him and play music for each other forever. It’s okay. He’ll be fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did it for a decade, he could do it for the rest of their lives. Maybe he can just get a golden retriever. He could gift Brett’s children with red envelopes and encourage them into loving music as well. He can compose a duet, maybe a concerto for Brett. He’ll be satisfied with occasional hangouts, filming, and bubble tea. He’ll be fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can keep up this painful performance for Brett. He’ll be fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this has been sitting in my masterlist for a while so I figured I should write it right? Well I wrote it all in one go. On a school night. Specifically from around 1:20 until 5:30 in the fricking morning. I'm making this post round 6am, and in 2 hours and 20 minutes, school starts for me. This was beta read by my friend Dawn.</p><p>Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed my sleep-deficient, nutella-fed angsting extravaganza. This is partly inspired by my own sadness at my sister getting married and moving out last year and bc I wanted to make more angst.<br/>Here are the pieces that played throughout the story:<br/>Wedding procession: Liebesleid (Kreisler)<br/>Eddy’s wine drinking: Liebestraume (Lizst)<br/>Couple’s first dance: Waltz No. 19 in A minor (Chopin)<br/>Brett and Eddy’s dance: Valse sentimentale (Tchaikovsky) + Schön Rosmarin (Kreisler)<br/>Eddy’s gin and tonic drinking: Tempo di valse in F-sharp minor (Sibelius)</p><p>Comments are appreciated (please validate my existence) Have a good day!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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